I wasn’t supposed to go to Casa Hogar, yet within a week and a half I found myself 3,986 miles from home. The mission trip to Casa Hogar Juan Pablo II in Lurín, Peru, had been buzzing through Campus Ministry since the new year, but I hadn’t planned to go. As a first-year fresh off a trip to SEEK in Utah and with no Spanish skills, I figured I’d prepare for next year instead. I even applied for a passport early—just in case.
Two weeks before spring break, a friend couldn’t make the trip and needed a stand-in. The day I was asked to go, my passport arrived. With little time to overthink, I said yes, trusting I’d learn what I needed along the way.
I followed every packing list and rule, but nothing could have prepared me for what Casa Hogar truly was. It wasn’t just an orphanage—it was a home built around faith and family. Monsignor Joseph Hirsch told us this wasn’t a mission to serve, rather we were training, on a reverse mission. Father Joeseph Walijewski, Msgr.’s predecessor, intended to take those with missionary hearts, and send them home inspired for change.
Students and faculty were expected to model Viterbo’s values—but the kids at Casa made that easy. They lived out Franciscan values with genuine hospitality, welcoming us like family by day two. Saturday mornings started with Mass, breakfast, and deep cleaning. The kids lived in eight apartment-style units, and I was at Estrella whim as we cleaned the kitchen and dining room. Google Translate and my partner Lainey helped but laughter bridged the gaps—as I polished floors on rags, silly dance moves earned plenty of giggles.
Casa was filled with the sounds of soccer, basketball, volleyball, music—and constant laughter. That joy carried into our service project, though painting bricks for 16 hours tested our patience. Something which we reflected on at our nightly campfire meetings. These nightly talks were a good way to contemplate, where we processed each day’s struggles and beauty as our time together grew short.
I hadn’t expected our group to answer questions and give advice in a group talk with the older kids. I had come to learn, not teach, and doubted I had anything meaningful to give. But their integrity and strong moral compass inspired me. All they needed was encouragement, a reminder that they’re already on the right path.
Monsignor took us beyond the compound to meet people with powerful stories of their own. Their acts of stewardship—giving everything they had—left a lasting impression. I came to understand that stewardship looks different in every situation, and that realization deepened my understanding of how I want to live it out in my own life.
My unexpected journey to Casa Hogar became more than a mission trip—it was a lesson in faith, community, and saying “yes” to the unknown. What started as a last-minute opportunity became a formative experience that challenged me, deepened my values, and showed the beauty of mutual giving. Casa Hogar will always remind me that the most meaningful paths are often unplanned.
